You Think I Ain't Worth a Dollar
by lionessus
Summary: ...But I Feel Like a Millionaire. A story starting from before the movie and following the Enterprise crew through 64 chapters based on prompts. Will contain mind-melds, fountain-swimming, cameos by Q, allergies, pranks etc. Main pairing is eventual K/S
1. TBitEitB

Hello everyone! This is the first of (hopefully) 64 chapters of this fic. I'm doing a Spirk-themed 64 theme challenge (I would link it, but this site hates links.) I currently don't have a beta, so if anyone would like to do it I would appreciate it very much :) The chapters will be chronological and loosely connected to each other, starting pre-movie and going weeeeeell past the movie itself. I hope you enjoy this first fic I'm posting here :) reviews, critique and everything else is very appreciated! (Contains Q/Picard if you squint... _)

The title of the story comes from a Queens of the Stone Age song, while this chapter's title comes from the prompt it was written for, "The beginning is the end is the beginning"

* * *

He woke from his sleep with a start, the dull ache in his joints harshly reminding him he wasn't the young and mobile dream-self. Spock rubbed his eyes and gingerly got up, sitting on the edge and taking in the view from his window overlooking Romulus' capital, the beauty of the city always brightening his mornings. Jim would love Romulus. He winced as the memories flew by and cursed his eidetic memory as he did every day. The only way to get away from the memory, he found over the years, was to start his day, to drown himself in work. He was surprised by a deep, masculine voice behind him, sounding just a little wistful and more than a little theatrical.

"You really miss him, don't you, Spock?"

He turned his head to the other side of the room where a tall, dark-haired man in flowing crimson robes decorated by heavy golden embroidery was admiring himself in the mirror. His face was calm and his full lips were stretched into a small smile. Irritation flared up in Spock at the sight but he kept his face composed and his voice steady.

"That is none of your business. I'm asking you to leave at once."

A frown passed over the young man's handsome features. "What in the world did I do to deserve such hostility, my dear Spock?"

"You are intruding in my private home _and my private life_."

The man didn't pay any attention to him and was scowling at his reflection. "Ah, red simply doesn't suit me!"

A bright flash enveloped him for a split-second and his clothes were suddenly changed - he wore black pants and a purple tunic over. He scrutinized his reflection, still looking unhappy with his clothing and repeated the flashing process a few more times until he ended up in a cobalt robe with a turtleneck with patterns Spock recognized as Romulan. Spock's joints were throbbing by now but he couldn't get up and start his day or simply go back to sleep before he got the intruder out of his house. He steeled his voice - the only good approach with this man was establishing authority.

"_Q_. I have things to do, so if you have something to discuss with me I'd advise you to do it now and return to bothering Captain Picard or _whatever it is what you do in your free time._"

Q was looking at him now, narrowing his eyes and obviously formulating his response - Spock didn't know what took him so long as he very well knew the depth of his intellect through the many conversations and debates they had. Q smiled.

"Maybe the matter is best discussed over tea?"

Spock didn't have time for his games and did his best to sound apologetic.

"I probably shouldn't strain myself because-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Spock was seated on the small table in what was his kitchen, the simple, undecorated room, the pain gone. Q appeared, seated on the table across him, along with two steaming cups of tea.

"Ah, _mon capitan _Picard. I thought it would be beneficial for his health to let him rest a bit - my attention, of course, can be overwhelming at times."

Spock was amused but didn't show it. Instead, he leaned forward. "He asked you to leave. Am I correct?"

Q looked outraged for a moment. "That is absolutely irrelevant. But let's get to other matters instead. Remember when I asked you to teach me that mind-meld thing of yours?"

He raised his eyebrows in anticipation, apparently expecting Spock to answer. Spock simply nodded and Q continued. "You said you wouldn't, even after my offers of various things you rejected me heartlessly!"

The man clasped his hands theatrically over where his heart was probably located, looking upwards for a moment, but then raised a hand and grinned. Spock couldn't help but pity such a great intellect being so unrestrained - Q was capable of great things, yet he acted like a little child sometimes.

"But I, being brilliant and omnipotent and all, came up with something that I can give you in return."

Q obviously needed his input again, and even though he was getting tired of the childish antics his strong curiosity had reared its head, so he indulged the man. "And what is that offering that can change my mind?"

Q looked incredibly pleased himself as he played with a spoon in his hands, ultimately bending it absolutely out of shape.

"I can offer you a certain... James T. Kirk. Do you happen to know him?"

Spock's mind took a few seconds to process the information given to him, interpreting every possible meaning but it all boiled down to one. A powerful, omnipotent yet rather treacherous being at times was offering him the one person that left a deep impact on his soul and a gaping hole in his heart. _No, this can't be true_, he thought. Q was probably just playing with him, putting salt on the ever-aching wound for his own twisted amusement. The picture of the sun-kissed body and brilliant mind forever taken from him and the idea of Q's cruel joke made him physically sick, his vision blurring as the strong nausea clutched his mind. He needed to get away, _away_...

He knocked the teacup over, spilling its contents and probably breaking it, as he got up and made his way towards the door, only to end up sitting in his place again, the ill feeling gone.

Q's face was neutral, Spock observed. The man knew this was his last chance to learn such an amazing and interesting trick and he sure wasn't going to let it get away.

"You know I'm capable of doing this, Spock. So, yes or no?"

Spock couldn't let himself hope, couldn't- "I will think about it."

Q met his raised eyebrow with one of his own and a cocky smirk. "We both know your answer. We're starting tomorrow with my lessons."

Before Spock could protest, the man blinked out of existence, leaving him in the kitchen alone. His tea was cold, his bones and joints were hurting again and the floor was wet with spilled tea seasoned with teacup shards, but a small glimmer of hope stopped him from noticing all of that. He rested his forehead on his arms and partially the table as he thought of something Jim used to say. _The whole universe seems to be conspiring against me today, Mr. Spock!_ He allowed himself a sigh as he drifted off into the memory. Illogical, but true.

* * *

As Q was about to depart a week later, having finally mastered the mind-meld, he turned to address Spock for the last time and grinned.

"The other Qs wouldn't allow me to bring you your Jim right away. _Power abuse_, they said._ Don't be so immature, Q_, they said. But worry not. I have devised a way to get you two together! It might take some time, though, but no more than a year. Just make sure you continue with your ambassadorial duties."

Spock nodded, his heart clenching in his side. One year! _Better than a lifetime alone_, his logic supplied. Q slightly bowed, surprising Spock.

"Goodbye, Spock. I'd love to stay and chat but my good Picard is probably tearing his hair out in worry!"

He grinned once more and Spock raised his hand in the Vulcan salute before Q disappeared in a flash.

Spock didn't know why he trusted the man, the infamous Q with no regard for any sentient beings, but the feeling in his gut told him his decision was good.

_Do what feels right, Spock_. He could almost see Jim's brilliant smile in front of him.

* * *

The cold was getting to him as Spock rested, sitting against the wall. The combination of shock and freezing left him shaking violently and he didn't even try to suppress it. It was all his fault - the destruction of Romulus, Vulcan and probably Earth soon. In his despair he had not thought about how Q was going to uphold his side of the bargain.

_And I thought I could save all those people with Q's instructions_, Spock thought, _and get Jim back._ It was too late to get emotional again, though, as his emotions had caused all of this. He pulled himself together, stopping the tremors and grabbed his makeshift torch, lit it and was about to exit the cave when his sensitive hearing picked up a lot of noise. 6.2 minutes and one predatory creature later, Spock was looking into the eyes of James T. Kirk, _blue eyes_, he noticed, and the world was right again, all the tragedies almost forgotten - oh, how selfish he was in that moment!

_Q wasn't that bad after all._


	2. Metaphor

Whoa, another chapter? I'm churning these out like crazy. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and added this to their favorites, I'm pretty overjoyed :) Today's prompt was _Metaphor_ and I intended to make it humorous at first but then I went into the dark realms of angst accidentally. Reviews/critique are welcomeee. I fixed some errors I caught in the first chapter, point out any you find since I currently don't have a beta reader (but I read through this like 213091023 times so there shouldn't be any huge mistakes)

Thanks for reading, and enjoy :) the next chapter should be a funny/cute one.

* * *

_Oh boy, here we go again_, was the only thought that popped into his mind as the verbal argument in front of him threatened to erupt into a full-blown fight. The role of a starship captain encompassed a wide array of duties, but babysitting Spock and Bones was definitely not what he had signed up for. He just slumped back into his very comfortable chair and inwardly thanked whoever commissioned them to be built as such. Through his ever-growing migraine he could hear Bones banging his fist against the desk and his angry voice.

"So you think letting that man die to cure the others is the right thing to do?"

Jim glanced up at Spock to see his reaction. His face was perfectly dispassionate, which served to infuriate Bones even more, but Jim noticed the tiny, imperceptible twitch of his jaw muscles, a clear indicator that the Vulcan wasn't exactly unaffected by the argument.

"If we let the virus that is replicating in his bloodstream grow to large enough quantities we can use it to battle the bacterial infection on all the other crewmen."

"And let him die," Jim supplied in a near whisper, covering his eyes with a hand.

The worst part was that Jim couldn't simply zone out and ignore the conversation as lives depended on him and the outcome. He raised his head looked at the others present at the meeting. Uhura was looking at her hands clasped in her lap, her face serious and sad. Scotty looked at him and merely shrugged. Chekov's eyebrows were drawn together in worry, probably about the other crew members, especially Sulu who was among the affected. The two of them were almost inseparable and one of the best bridge duos.

Jim sighed and looked at Spock and Bones, both stern and gazing at the gray bulkheads as if they held the key to the problem. Let one die or let all of them die. The creeping fear of this being his real Kobayashi Maru was overcoming his senses and he felt truly helpless for the first time in the 7 months he was captain. _There had to be a way!_

His mind raced over all the possibilities but the only possible one was Spock's suggestion. He knew the Vulcan respected all life, that he probably thought this over a million times and had logical explanations for the suggestion. He never expected he would decide over life and death and he felt _heavy_, heavy and breathless under the burden, disgusted by the decision he wanted to make.

He wearily raised his head and looked into Spock's eyes, swallowing. They were a dark brown and Spock held the Captain's gaze without a problem. Jim didn't find any judgment in them, only acceptance and encouragement to make the only acceptable decision and get this over with. For a short moment, Jim felt like only the two of them existed and he held the eye contact, trying to express his thoughts with his eyes, _I don't want to do this, I can't, Why is my job so difficult? _If this continued, Jim was sure he would simply hyperventilate and faint. Spock cleared his throat and spoke softly, a harsh contrast to his previous words, clearly trying to reassure him.

"Captain, Ensign Jack would not survive even with adequate treatment and we cannot make it to a Starbase in time. It is only logical to sacrifice one man without a chance for the good of the others. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, Jim."

Jim just nodded weakly and looked at his intertwined fingers resting on his thighs. _Ensign Jack who had a pretty, young wife back on Earth, and sweet, blond children and a house in the countryside._ And he was the one who would take him away from them. McCoy spoke up again.

"You aren't going to listen to the hobgoblin, are you? My god, Jim! Logic, logic! I'll tell you what. Logic is best thought of in terms of toilets: it is made by humans or _Vulcans, if you will,_ needed by civilization and shat all over every damn day much to our indifference, perhaps even content! People's lives are at stake here!"

He could feel Bones' gaze boring into his skull but he just couldn't bring himself to look up, fearing it would bring his decision to square one again. Jim could hear Bones drawing in a slow breath in an attempt to calm himself. His voice shook a little.

"Oh, I see how it is, _Captain_."

He heard Bones' loud steps clattering against the floor and the slow swish of the doors. The decision of life and death was a sensitive one for Bones and Jim regretted ever asking him to come to the meeting. His input was invaluable but hurting him was just not worth it. Jim gathered his courage, stood up and started to collect his data-disks scattered over the table, but they were slipping away from his shaking fingers fingers.

"Well, the meeting is over then. Mr. Spock, I would like you to oversee the process of developing the cure and notify Ensign Jack's closest family. You may return to your posts now."

Spock nodded and Jim simply sat down again, observing the suddenly intriguing patterns on the buttons in front of him. The crew members left the briefing room in silence and Jim simply buried his head in his hands, the hands that will forever be stained by the blood of Ensign Jack, the young, charismatic man loved by many of his friends from the security department. The man he would never really know. He remained like that for some time, the low fire of shame, of disgust for his decision burning up somewhere in his stomach. His throat tightened and he cleared it loudly to get rid of the sensation when a warm, bony hand settled on his shoulder. He barely held himself back from jumping up in surprise when the low voice spoke and he just tensed up a little instead.

"Jim. Do not blame yourself. You did what was logical."

Jim snorted derisively, the sound muffled by his sleeve. "Logic will certainly cure Jack and set everything straight."

The hand withdrew from his shoulder, the unnatural warmth still lingering on it and he immediately regretted his bitter sarcasm. Jim's conscious was about to object to the loss of the comforting touch when the hand gently came down on top of his head, the long, elegant fingers awkwardly settling on his skull and he just slid them down, smoothing the short hairs and repeating the gentle stroking motion a few times, careful and almost shy. Jim felt warm and the gesture reminded him of his childhood and the rare moments when his mother did that and he realized that Spock probably picked it up from his mother – _she was dead_, he remembered- and Jim knew he couldn't even imagine the sorrow Spock must have felt when she died and that just added to the tense grief that was saturating his every thought now. Spock's silent voice broke the perfect silence that had settled over them.

"You did the right thing."

Moments later, the hand was gone and left a warm tingling on his head in its wake and Spock's steps indicated a hurried walk towards the door which swished open and closed quickly. _Damn Vulcan control and everything! _

Jim waited a few moments, then sighed heavily for only the empty room to hear, stood up, straightened his golden uniform shirt and headed out as well, keeping his brave captain face hard and steady, his thoughts still shaken from the difficult decision, but his emotions permeated by the soft warmth Spock's quiet comfort brought.

James T. Kirk had the best damn First Officer in the Fleet.

* * *

Ten days later, the situation on the Enterprise was normal again but a rather dark feeling was still hanging above their heads, lingering and slowing all the work.

Jim hadn't spoken to Bones in those ten days as he spent most of the time wallowing in his misery and consciously avoiding sickbay and the Doctor, but now he found himself standing in front of his door, a bottle of Saurian Brandy behind his back. Jim brought up one hand to the buzzer, hesitating and letting it hover there for what seemed like an eternity, suddenly fearing Bones would reject him, fearing he destroyed one of his dearest friendships.

He mustered his courage and pressed the buzzer. Some noise and a few good minutes later the door opened and revealed a messy-looking Bones, his hair disheveled, his clothes rumpled. Jim met his surprised but careful gaze and was rather touched by his friend's bloodshot eyes underlined with blue, almost purple bags under his eyes. Kirk broke the silence first, but looked down.

"Listen, Bones, I- I'm sorry. I know this was difficult for you because of the thing with your father-"

The rest of his apology was muffled by Bones' shirt as he was pulled into a sudden but strong hug and relief washed through him as he let his head rest on his friend's shoulder, bringing his hands and the bottle up to return the hug. Bones clapped him on the back a few times and then released him, a small smile stretching over his tired face.

"I know, kid. It was a hard decision to make and I know I couldn't have done that. I might have overreacted a little..."

He brought up a hand and scratched the back of his head, looking down, and quickly mumbled. "And tell the hobgoblin I didn't mean to insult his precious logic, it was merely a pretty bad metaphor on my part."

Jim smiled too, his first genuine smile in days, and brought up the bottle to their eye level and Bones took it. "I'll assume this is for me. Are you up for a drink, Jim?"

"I can't believe you actually need to ask me that."


End file.
